Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 8

           Thentheywarmedthemselvesinthekitchenwhiletheirroomwasbeingmadeready.Charlesbegantosmoke.Hesmokedwithlipsprotruding,spittingeverymoment,recoilingateverypuff.

           "You’llmakeyourselfill,"shesaidscornfully.

           Heputdownhiscigarandrantoswallowaglassofcoldwateratthepump.Emmaseizingholdofthecigarcasethrewitquicklytothebackofthecupboard.

           Thenextdaywasalongone.Shewalkedaboutherlittlegarden,upanddownthesamewalks,stoppingbeforethebeds,beforetheespalier,beforetheplastercurate,lookingwithamazementatallthesethingsofonce-on-a-timethatsheknewsowell.Howfarofftheballseemedalready!Whatwasitthatthussetsofarasunderthemorningofthedaybeforeyesterdayandtheeveningofto-day?HerjourneytoVaubyessardhadmadeaholeinherlife,likeoneofthosegreatcrevicesthatastormwillsometimesmakeinonenightinmountains.Stillshewasresigned.Shedevoutlyputawayinherdrawersherbeautifuldress,downtothesatinshoeswhosesoleswereyellowedwiththeslipperywaxofthedancingfloor.Herheartwaslikethese.Initsfrictionagainstwealthsomethinghadcomeoveritthatcouldnotbeeffaced.

           Thememoryofthisball,then,becameanoccupationforEmma.

           WhenevertheWednesdaycameroundshesaidtoherselfassheawoke,"Ah!Iwasthereaweekafortnightthreeweeksago."

           Andlittlebylittlethefacesgrewconfusedinherremembrance

Настройки
Фон страницы
Размер шрифта
Межстрочный интервал
Фразовые глаголы
Показать / Скрыть меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Страница 74 из 453